


It's okay , it's "love"

by fading_hope



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 03:36:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6783580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fading_hope/pseuds/fading_hope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard knew he has to leave. He had to end this</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's okay , it's "love"

The first time it happened Lewis had went over to him and knelt and begged for forgiveness even though Richard brushed it off as an accident.

The second time it happened, Lewis bought him flowers.

The third time was a simple spoken apology. He didn’t apologise anymore after the fourth, fifth and the sixth. Richard has lost count, and he realises it doesn’t even matter anymore.

As Richard observed the fading bruises on his back, he wonders if there was ever a happier time back then.

A happier time when Lewis and Richard were better, both laughing and cuddling, watching dvds till two in the morning.

Richard frowns, because the memory seemed distant, and foggy even. He sighs and gets out of the bath, draining the water.

He pulls a towel and wraps it around himself, and pads towards the kitchen. He took the takeaway from the previous night and heats it up in the microwave, fingers thrumming nervously against the countertop.

His eyes flickered to the clock embedded in the fridge, it was almost eleven pm. Lewis had told him that he’d be coming home late today.

He remembers the text he had received from his friend Lip , the one telling him that he’s seen Lewis in one of those newer clubs opened downtown a week ago. 

Lewis has been working later than usual recently, and always brushing off Richards questions with a wave of his handsn

Richard has disagreed Lip with a strong "No, that's impossible , you probably mistook him for Lew."

But after another text message from him he began doubting Lewis.

He comes home everyday buzzed, reeking slightly of alcohol. 

He did confront Lewis the previous night, and it certainly didn’t end well. The bruises were proof of that. 

But Richard took pride in the fact that he did manage to leave a few marks of his own on Lewis during the angry smash of lips against lips, and hips against thighs. 

 

He knows that the relationship was toxic, he knows that the cuts on his bodies aren’t what usual relationships comprises of, he knows that Lewis shouldn’t be so rough with him, but, in some way Richard just couldn’t turn away. It wasn’t that he was a masochist, no. It was just that he’s drowning so deep in everything , he finds it hard to scramble back to the surface.

"You love him so much you allow him to push you around. When will you realise he’s no good for you?" 

Ronald Speirs , another good friend, had told him the other time, face red with anger as he pointed at the fading scars on Richards arms. 

Richard remembers telling Ron to get out of his house calmly, and then breaking down and sobbing in the quiet confines of his house after he left, suddenly feeling too alone in the big apartment Lewis has gotten for them. 

From then on, Richard decided that he wasn’t just in love, it was much deeper than that. If he was willing to go through all that, he figures it was an addiction. 

 

In a way Richard feels just as bad as Lewis, if not worse. He cuts off every single connection he has, including Ron, his closest friend, just because he doesn’t want to receive the judgmental stares and concerned talks anymore. 

He knows that he’s sick, wanting a relationship like this wasn’t high on everyone else’s priority list. He knows it’s wrong, to stick with a man who might kill him one day. But still he stays, he doesn’t leave. He wants to receive it just as bad as Lewis who dishes it out. He’s in it too deep to get out.

Richard was startled out of his deep thoughts when the microwave beeped, signalling that his food was ready. Suddenly Richard didn’t feel as hungry. 

He puts the food back in the fridge and decided to see if Lip was right about seeing Lewis in the new club. He dresses in a pair of jeans and t-shirts and then grabs his keys.

 

He stood in front of the club. He hoped that Lip wasn't right but when he saw a flash of familiar brown hair he felt a pang on his heart 

Richard bit his lip as he entered the club, the overly loud music immediately giving him a headache. He scans the entire room, searching for that one person he came for. 

He almost sighed in relief when he couldn’t find him, he must have been overly paranoid and hallucinating when he saw him.

Richard turns to leave but a flurry of activity to his right caught his eyes. A blond man was leaning casually over another, his back to Richard, face awfully close to the man in front of him. 

He was grabbing the lapels of the other’s jacket, pulling him inwards as if for a kiss. Richard snorts, and moves to leave, but then the blond man adjusted himself, and his heart almost stopped when he caught sight of his Lewis.

He stood there for almost a good five minutes, jaws clenching and releasing at the same time. It wasn’t that Lewis was kissing back, he noticed, but it wasn’t like he was pushing him away as well.

Richard moves to confront him, but then stops when Lewis turns, who apparently saw him. He watches the surprise and guilt that flits across his face, and Richard wanted to punch him. He moves towards him, but an idea struck him, and even though it’s random as hell, he knows it’s better to give Lewis a taste of his own medicine.

He grabs the guy nearest to him, and leads him back into the middle of the dance floor, his eyes never once leaving lewis'. Despite the guy’s initial squawk of protest, his reluctance immediately transits into excited pants when Richard grinds himself against him, body moves fluid and in tune to the music.

Richard puts his hands through the stranger’s hair, and noted with satisfaction how Lewis' face turned livid. He pulls the stranger closer, closes his eyes and waited.

One, two, three.

He feels the impact from being pushed away, and he hears the sound of fists connecting with jaws rather than sees it. He opens his eyes, and watches emotionlessly as the stranger he was previously dancing with being beaten to a pulp.

He ignores the gasps and pointed whispers, chooses instead to leave the scene. He doesn’t really want to deal with anything right now. He slids past Lewis, who was still busy hitting the guy, and honestly Richard should have intervened, but he didn’t really care. All he knew right now was to get away from Lewis.

He stumbles along the pavement, eyes burning with unshed tears as he walked his way home, completely forgetting about his car.

Lewis.

Thinking of him hurts, it hurts so badly that the back of his eyes started to burn. Who would have known? The man that used to tell him "I love you", 

 

Richard was 25 and Lewis a few months younger. They were in the middle of war, two unlikely men from different backgrounds becoming lovers. 

Richard arrived at home by 1 a.m. Lewis was already home and angrily waiting for him. 

 

“What the fuck was that for?” Lewis eyes narrowed into slits, hands moving to hold Richards throat.

“Fuck off.”

Suddenly Richard didn’t feel like playing the meek game anymore, he pulls at Lewis shoulders and shoved him, stalking off to the bedroom with Lewis on his heels. He snaps his wrists away when Lewis tries to grab him, and yanks the closet door open, pulling out random pieces of clothing and throwing them on the bed. He turns to grab one of his bigger gym bag, and started stuffing the clothes into them.

“What are you doing?” Lewis asked.

Richard ignores him as he moved into the bathroom, picking up his toothbrush and comb. He was stopped by Lewis' sudden firm grip on his arm, and he turns to shrug him off, but was surprised by the determination on Lewis' face.

“Are you leaving?” He asked again.

Richard ignores the question again and moves around the house once more, throwing more things into his gym bag with Lewis trailing behind him, repeating the same question.

“Yes, yes I am. So that you could be free to do whatever you want.” Richard finally snaps, voice trembling, "Go fuck that blond guy, don't disturb my packing."

“N-no,” Lewis starts, reaching a hand out to halt Richards frantic packing, 

“No, you can’t leave. You’re not allowed to leave.” Desperation was laced into his words, and it almost stops Richard in his tracks. But he recoveres a second later, and hoists the bag onto his shoulder. He only manages to take two steps before Lewis once again slams him against the wall.

“You’re. Not. Allowed. To. Leave.” Lewis punctuates every word with a harsh kiss, holding his arms out against the wall to trap Richard in. Richard bit Lewis' lips hard enough to taste his blood, and Lewis curses, but refuses to budge even when Richard pushes at him. 

Lewis' bloodied lip begins planting feather light kisses on Richard , brushing red against white skin. Richard moans and tugs his fingers through Lewis' hair, pulling him in for a messy kiss. He marks Lewis with his finger nails, fingers leaving scratches on his back. And Lewis' tongue brushes his lips before dragging his teeth over Richards sensitive spot on his neck, bruising his skin the perfect way. Richard can't remember when they ended up in bed, naked.

His tongue begins moving downwards, swirling across dusky nipples and Richard's navel. Richard's breath hitched as Lewis ran thumb against Richard's cock. 

“Please.” Richard begged 

“What do you want?” Lewis breathes, hands already reaching out for the bottle of lube on the bedside cabinet, “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you to fuck me.” Richard swallows visibly as Lewis uncaps the lube, and spreads it across his fingers before circling Richards's hole, stroking it teasingly. Richard reaches out a hand to stop him, “No, I want you to fuck me now. I need you, please.”

“Are yo-” Lewis looks up, an unsure expression on his face, and Richard reaches out and taps his left cheek in reassurance, and that was the answer he needed before he coats himself with liberal amounts of lube. Lewis positions himself , and pushes himself in him in one thrust.

Richard gasped in pain, it felt like he was being ripped apart. Slight tears leaked out of him as he adjusted to Lewis' size. He feels light kisses peppering his shoulders and warm arms circling his waist, and suddenly it didn’t hurt as much.

“Move.” Richard orders when he feels like he’s able to take in all of Lewis, and Lewis immediately snaps his hips forward, thrusting at all the right kind of angles that makes Richard forget the pain, and instead, makes him focus on the intense pleasure brought forward. 

Richard moaned as Lewis hits his prostrate dead-on with every thrust, all the while sucking bruises onto his skin, marking and claiming him as his own.

It wasn’t long before the pleasure builds up and became too much for Richard , and he comes messily over the sheets. Lewis grunts and and with a few more quick snaps of his hips, he comes as well, long and hard into Richard.

 

They both fell in a sweaty heap on the bed, arms and legs tangling. Richard strokes Lewis’ back gently, whispering soothing words as the younger suddenly grabs his wrist in a firm grip.

“If you go, I’d kill myself.” Lewis threatened, tears still falling from his eyes. “I don’t fucking care anymore. If there’s no you, there’s nothing else left for me.”

Richard buries his face into Lewis' neck, and realises that this is as close to a "I love you" as he can get. 

He doesn’t care about that stupid incident in the club anymore, all he wanted was Lewis, broken or otherwise. All he needed was Lewis.

Their relationship was as fucked up as any other, and they were both too stubborn and dependent on each other to break away. He knows it wasn’t perfect, but at least it was still something.

He couldn’t run even if he wanted to.


End file.
